Meetings, Time, and a Watching Sky
by Rakked
Summary: She's a ninja princess who's itching for a little rebellion. He's a sexy Brazilian bundle of bad influences. Things proceed as things do. Written for a friend's birthday; realized I should post it here, too. Rated M for eventual coitus. I miss Xever's human form ; ;


The first time they met, he was seventeen and she was twelve.

She walked through the broad, cold halls of the Oroku family's ancient house, far back in the hills in a sea of pines. Rounding a corner, she stopped short.

He was long and lean and different from anyone she'd ever seen before. His clothes were almost affectedly plain and ragged, his face already marked with the lines of sardonic humor, and the cigarette dangling from his mouth sent little curls of smoke up to the dark rafters.

"You can't smoke here," she snapped peremptorily. No matter who he was, he was in the stronghold of the Foot Clan, and therefore her inferior.

He glanced down at her, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, drawing herself up to her full height. One flick of those dark eyes slashed her from head to foot, and she felt her skin prickling with irritation.

There was no submission in that look, not like the Foot soldiers she was used to, not like the tutors she terrorized.

He sucked in a lungful of smoke, stared into her eyes, and ground the cigarette out on a steel-toed boot.

"You must be Master Shredder's daughter," he said, smoke rising around his face. "That was my last cigarette, or I'd offer you one. But I guess you would say it isn't allowed?"

His mouth twisted into a grin that made her glare at him.

"And you must be that thief Father pulled out of jail," she sneered. "Xever."

He bowed low, keeping his eyes on her. They danced with a peculiar amusement. "Oroku Karai. A pleasure to make your... acquaintance."

"You're here to learn to fight like a real warrior," she said.

"I am a _capoeirista_," he said, a flare of pride in his words. "I am here to demonstrate my skill on the bodies of your father's soldiers."

"The doctor is in the east wing of the house, when you're beaten," she said, her voice high-pitched, young, angry. She turned on her heel, back the way she'd come, and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Don't let me catch you smoking here again."

"Of course, Ms. Oroku," he said with false servility.

He had a beautiful voice, she thought as she left. She almost didn't want to see him pummeled. Almost.

Before he left Japan, she had watched Xever destroy a full dozen Foot soldiers, his long legs crashing through their defenses, his rhythmic movements a joy to watch. The glee he took in fighting was intoxicating.

It was heady stuff for a girl on the cusp of puberty, a girl who idolized her terrifying father for his skill at arms – who had never really interacted with anyone she could even imagine seeing in a romantic light.

The second time they met, she was sixteen and he was twenty-one. It was in New York City, one stop on a trip around the world to familiarize the heir apparent of the Foot Clan with every nation the Foot had infiltrated.

In New York, the Foot's hold was personified by Xever's steel-toed boot. He had fought and stolen and killed for the Shredder until no major criminal power in the city took the Foot lightly; the ground was fertile for a larger investment.

She wore armor, now, instead of the traditional Japanese garb she'd worn at home. Her fingers were calloused and strong, her eyes painted with slashes of black and red. She hadn't started dying her hair yet, and it hung in a straight, short curtain around her head, her bangs cropped high.

The old building in front of her did not look like a fortress of the Foot Clan. She pursed her lips. Compared to the Foot's holdings in Japan, this was a hovel.

"You look disappointed," Xever said from the shadows in his gorgeous, mocking voice. She scoffed.

"_This_ is where you expect Master Shredder to command from when he comes to this filthy city?" she said. "I'm not disappointed, just sorry about what he's going to do to you when he sees it."

"You care! How sweet," he said, lighting a cigarette. He raised his eyebrows at her, his fingers poised at his lips. "You don't mind, do you? I remember you were so... conscientious about your father's rules..."

Karai bristled and snatched the cigarette from his fingers. The tip glowed as she breathed in the smoke, struggling not to cough.

She'd often imagined something like this. Some small way to rebel against her regimented life under her father's domineering heel.

Xever laughed, a warm, rich sound, and she felt a hundred little adolescent fantasies curling up from somewhere in her belly like the smoke curled, stinging, out of her nostrils. He lit another cigarette.

There was no one around. The streets were deserted. Karai cast a sideways glance at him, at his lanky, almost awkward lounge that somehow fit so well on his skinny frame.

He chuckled suddenly. "You know, I believe we were never formally introduced."

Karai looked at him. "Why would we have been?"

Xever laughed aloud. "Ahhhh, you mock me. Because I am just a thief and a lackey, is that right? But remember, your father has made me one of his most powerful lieutenants."

"The most powerful rat in this garbage dump of a city," she snapped back, facing him.

"You try to insult me, but you must understand, Karai, that I have _earned_ my power. _You_ are a... ninja princess." His tone gave a cruel twist to the ludicrous title. "You're coddled. Do you even know how to fight?"

Her fist slammed into his ribs, knuckles extended, before he could react, and he spun away, feet moving loose and easy in a fighting dance.

His eyes were admiring.

Karai's were furious as she threw the barely-smoked cigarette to the street and lunged at him.

He batted her punch away and tapped the side of her head as he spun her past him.

"You're fast, Karai!" he said, in open admiration. "I was waiting for that and you still got me."

"I'm going to teach you to respect the Oroku name," she growled. Her palm itched to draw her sword, but she choked down her anger and moved in, feeling him out.

"Respect is earned," he said. "Your father raised me out of prison, gave me authority and the chance to prove my strength in battle."

Karai lunged. There was a brief flurry of blows, blocks, counter-attacks, then they parted, Karai panting and rubbing her arm, sore where Xever's boot had slammed into an armor plate.

"I have been fighting for my life since I was ten years old," he said, eyes narrowing. "You are the pampered child of a very rich man. What are you trying to prove?"

There was a flare of remembered pain on Karai's back, the legacy of long, hard years of training. Beatings and punishment of a hundred kinds flashed before her eyes, and she smirked, her stance getting looser, easier, more natural.

"You have no idea what I've been put through," she said.

Before he could respond, she was on him. Her training had been thorough.

His limbs were long; he had reach on her, so she used that. She crowded in where he couldn't hit her easily, using her elbows, threatening his crotch when he tried to use his legs. He stamped at her foot, and she took it full-force on the metal plate that protected it, then drove her knuckles hard into his thigh, making him hiss in pain.

It seemed like minutes or more, close against the wall, limbs moving too fast to be seen, and then he gripped her and spun, slamming her back against the bricks so hard it drove her wind out.

"Damn you, you vicious little minx!" he snapped, but there was laughter and admiration in his voice.

She stared straight into his eyes, challenging. "If this was a real fight, you'd be dead," she said. "I'd have gutted you the first time I got inside your defenses."

"If this was a real fight," Xever said, "I would have taken you more seriously. I have insulted you, Oroku Karai, and for that I apologize. You are... definitely not a coddled princess."

"Remember that," she said in the firmest voice she could muster through the pounding in her chest, her shortness of breath.

"I promise I will never forget this... moment," he purred next to her head, and her ears suddenly burned.

He was... very close to her, her body sandwiched between him and the wall, and somehow her thighs had parted around his leg.

Her belly twisted when she realized there was something hard in his jeans, pushing against her inner thigh.

She put her hands on his chest and shoved him away roughly, standing straight and brushing herself off.

"Show me the command center," she said brusquely. "I will forget this challenge to my authority."

"Of course, Karai," Xever said, an outstretched arm pointing the way. "Please, come with me."

Two years later, she was eighteen, standing with her arms folded on a rooftop, looking down on the city. Any traces of her old uncertainty had been burned away, leaving her as slim and straight and deadly as a blade.

Xever leaned against a beam behind her, smoking, his eyes not leaving her back.

"Why did my father bring me here?" she asked, not turning.

He shrugged. "Search me. Maybe he wants the company."

Karai gave a little bark of laughter. "Right. I'm sure."

She spun on her heel, her whip-quick body tense and ready. "Give me a cigarette," she said, holding her hand out.

He produced one and handed it to her. She didn't move a millimeter as he lit it from his own.

Karai smirked at him, her lips curving excitingly around the cigarette.

He stayed close to her, acutely aware of her presence. There was... a distinct flavor to her voice, her stance, even her smell, the sandalwood and weapon oil and underneath everything the clean sweat of her body.

She wanted something.

What?

"Do you remember what you called me last time we met, Xever?" she asked with deceptive casualness.

"Something like a spoiled princess, yes," he said.

He thought a lot about that night. He wasn't sure if she'd felt his erection against her, but damned if her simple proximity wasn't turning him on again. It was almost insulting how arousing this skinny, angry teenager was. There was something bitter and hard and exciting about her, something that made him want to throw her down on the roof and make love to her under the stars.

Karai pulled away slightly. She rested her elbow on her hip, her cigarette dangling from her fingertips.

Now that it had come down to the clinch, she felt like a stupid sixteen-year-old again, with butterflies in her stomach because the first man she'd ever masturbated to had gotten hard from being pressed up against her. She dropped the cigarette on the roof and ground it out with her heel.

She wasn't an ignorant kid humping pillows anymore, though. She could take what she wanted.

Xever barely had time to register surprise when she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss.

Her tongue slid into his mouth, and he tasted her cigarette smoke and a hint of plum wine. He hooked his left arm around her waist, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him backwards until they almost toppled to the rooftop.

There was an animalistic need in her movements, her nails clawing his back as she pulled at his shirt, tugging it off his lean body. A knife fell from his pocket, clattering on the roof, and she gave a throaty laugh, biting his lower lip hard.

He found a clasp, opened it, and then her fingers were bumping against his as they stripped her armor plates off. Karai grabbed Xever's fallen knife and slit her breast bindings, and he ducked his head in to suck a nipple into his mouth.

Karai buried her fingers in his hair, growling softly as his leg moved up between her thighs.

Xever pondered whether to tell her that he'd imagined this more than a few times in the last two years. But there was an arrow-straight desire in her that dared him to deflect it, to introduce some kind of sentimental spin on the encounter.

He shrugged internally and pressed his hand to her belly, sliding it down into her pants, and her body twisted up towards him, a shuddering gasp on her lips as his fingers circled her clitoris, dipped lower to feel her wet heat.

"How long have you been waiting for this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Shut the fuck up," she said, and bit his neck so hard that his fingers curled, thrusting into her young womanhood almost automatically.

Karai wriggled beneath him, a rough sound of pleasure coming from her throat, and Xever pulled his hand out of her pants, then jerked them down her legs, catching a glimpse of her little patch of black hair.

His cock was pressing painfully against his jeans, and Karai tore his belt away, then pushed them down. His hard length smacked out against her knee, and she laughed.

"Just what I needed," she said, and the practiced sexuality of the words were so at odds with her tight, almost frantic tone that Xever was briefly taken aback.

What was he doing? Was he really going to fuck his boss's teenage daughter on the roof of a shitty New York apartment building?

Then her hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him into another tigerish kiss, and he gave in entirely.

She reached between them, guiding his cockhead to her pussy lips, and before he could resist her legs around his waist had pulled him deep inside her.

Karai stiffened in pain, making a sharp, strange sound as Xever's cock plowed into her tight pussy. He stared at her, almost shocked, but then she was rutting up against him, and her liquid heat around him was making his brain simmer, and his hips were moving of their own accord.

Xever was not a gentleman in many things, but on one front he was firm, and he snaked his right hand between their straining bodies to press his thumb against Karai's clitoris. She moaned into his mouth, and he caught the glimpse of one tiny, bright tear on her cheek.

He felt inexplicably, irrationally guilty.

But the devil was driving him and he filled his left hand with her hair and drove himself balls-deep into her, over and over, making her shake beneath him as she orgasmed, her hands clawing at the rooftop.

With his last scrap of forethought, Xever tried to pull out of her as he felt his climax building inside him, but Karai gave a savage growl and locked him close, moving with him as if the only thing in the world that mattered to her was his cock thrusting inside her, his seed in her womb.

Her cunt was tighter than anything he'd felt around him, a side effect of her athleticism, and she was burning hot and wetter than he'd have imagined. His cockhead plunged into her, stretching her, and she exhaled a rasping breath in his ear, and he pushed in hard one last time, his balls tightening, the rush of cum shooting down his length even as he thrust.

Karai grinned fiercely next to his head, a strange laugh bubbling out of her teeth as she felt his sperm jetting into her. She bit his ear, making him grunt, and then she rolled, flipping them over, and he gasped as she worked her hips, milking him dry.

The sweat was cold on their skin in the high breeze.

Xever felt very tired.


End file.
